


Not Your Property

by MintSauce



Series: The Halfway House [23]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, Neighbours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 10:25:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3764677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintSauce/pseuds/MintSauce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey meets their neighbour across the hall. It's a weird experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Mickey’s really sick of people knocking on his door when he’s trying to sleep.

            He stumbles out to the door in nothing more than a pair of boxers because _fuck it_ , if whoever is daring to knock can’t deal with the fact he’s half naked then they can go fuck themselves. They shouldn’t have bothered in the first place.

            He’s still a little bleary eyed and has only just pulled the door open when someone is pushing him back through it and slamming it shut again.

            He blinks at the girl, wondering what in hell’s name is happening. He opens his mouth to tell her to get the fuck out, or maybe just to question what the hell is going on when she flaps her hands at him and makes a shushing noise.

            She goes up on her toes to squint through the peephole back out into the corridor. Mickey just stands there, jaw working and trying to work out if he isn’t just imagining this whole situation.

            After a minute, she drops back down and lets out a breath of obvious relief. “Sorry,” she says, laughing. “Dude didn’t know one night stand etiquette. Wish there was some sort of way to tell that shit.”

            That’s when Mickey notices she’s only dressed in a large fluffy red dressing gown, her hair fluffed up at the back and flat on one side. She also stinks of sex. Objectively, he supposes she’s a pretty girl. Her hair is jet black, eyes a brilliant shade of green. Her skin has that healthy tan glow going on about it too, although, Mickey is nowhere near gay enough to be able to tell if it’s natural.

            “You burst into stranger’s apartments often?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

            She looks him up and down and smirks, “No, but I’m thinking he should.”

            It’s not often he gets so blatantly checked out by someone other than Ian, so Mickey can’t help the slight heat that rises in his cheeks. “You obviously know where the door is,” he says, turning back in the direction of the kitchen.

            There’s hardly much point going back to sleep now, Ian’ll be home soon. All he can do is dope himself up on enough coffee to cover the difference.

            Instead of taking the obvious hint, the girl just follows him further into the apartment.

            “So,” she says, looking around. “You got a name?”

            He snorts. You sort of have to admire this girl’s balls. Even if she is completely barking up the wrong tree. “Yeah, it’s ‘shut the door on your way out’,” he says, checking there’s enough coffee in the machine for Ian when he gets back.

            The girl just laughs. “Well mine’s Elsa,” she tells him.

            He can’t help but scoff. “Like the Disney princess?”

            She turns to look at him from where she was flipping through Ian’s fitness magazines on the coffee table. She raises an eyebrow. “You know Frozen?”

            Unfortunately.

            “I have a niece,” he says, taking a much needed mouthful of coffee. He hopes that when he opens his eyes this is all just going to be a caffeine deprived hallucination.

            It isn’t.

            For some reason, that makes her laugh.

            “That’s cute,” she says, bending and picking up one of Mickey’s sketchpads from the coffee table. She only manages to glimpse the first one, just a test run of the skyline before Mickey snatches it off her.

            They’re still rough, his attempts at trying to get back into art now he’s started his training to become a tattoo artist. Besides, the sketch book is mainly filled with sketches of Ian and something about those always strikes him as intensely private.

            Elsa just smiles as he tucks the sketchbook back into his original place. Before he could step back though, there’s a finger pressed against his sternum. He looks down, stares at the black chipped nail polish and says, “Um…”

            “An artist,” she says. “ _Cute_.”

            He coughs awkwardly and steps back away from her touch. He has the slightly irrational desire to go shower. He wants to scratch her touch from his skin, because nothing about the situation is right. It’s all just so wrong.

            “Why are you still here?” he asks.

            She laughs even though he wasn’t trying to be funny.

            She pats his cheek as she walks past him towards the door. “It’s okay,” she says. “Hard to get gets me wet.”

            Then just like that she was gone.

            Mickey remembers Ian and the Gallagher’s sometimes referred to their mother as Hurricane Monica. He could imagine this girl fitting that description as well. She looked like chaos.

            Mickey didn’t know what to do with someone else’s chaos. He also didn’t understand women. Basically, he was altogether fucked.

            When Ian came home, he found Mickey in the shower. Stripping off, he stepped in behind him, arms winding around his waist and the lips on his neck already chasing away the weirdness from the hour before.

“Two showers in as many days, you ill, Mick?” he laughs. His fingers scratch into Mickey’s happy trail and Mickey shivers.

“The neighbour touched me,” he says, pulling a face and spitting the water filling his mouth down the drain.

Behind him, Ian tenses. Mickey expected that though. “Excuse me.”

“The neighbour girl, across the hall,” he explains, “She touched me. Fucking fanny pheromones, needed a shower.”

He turns in Ian’s arms and kisses him properly, the best greeting either of them know how to give. The water keeps running down over their faces, but Mickey doesn’t care and he knows Ian doesn’t either.

He slips his hands down Ian’s back, the water making them glide. He thumbs Ian’s hipbones and opens his eyes, squinting through the water. Ian’s looking back at him, droplets clinging to his eyelashes like starlight.

He wonders if Ian could pick him up and fuck him right here against the tiles. They’d probably slip and Ian’s strong, but he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to hold Mickey up through a fuck like he’s some chick.

“Why was she in our apartment?” he asks just when Mickey had started to forget about the previous conversation.

He shrugs, “Honestly… I haven’t worked that bit out yet.”

Mickey sets his hands on Ian’s shoulders, goes up on his toes to whisper his filthy ideas straight into his ear. He doesn’t want to talk about women and pussies and fingers touching his chest that aren’t Ian’s anymore. He just wants Ian’s cock in his ass and the sweet burn of not having to care about anything else for a while.

Ian grins, expression the most sultry fucking thing that Mickey has ever seen. He should look ridiculous. He does when he proceeds to shake hair out of his hair like a dog.

Ian bends, puts his hands under Mickey’s thighs and picks him up just like he’s nothing.

 _This could work_ , Mickey thinks.

It doesn’t. Mickey has a black eye for the rest of the week.


	2. Chapter 2

_This anaconda don’t._

            Mickey frowned at the text from Ian, shouldering open the main door to their apartment as he unlocked his phone. He almost dropped it at the sight of the picture that greeted him.

            It was a really badly angled shot of an old man on one of the chest press machines at the gym. He had his legs splayed wide, wrinkly old face furrowed in concentration. And as clear as day, you could see his shrivelled old ball sac up the leg of his shorts.

            _WOT THE FCK, IAN! No one wants to see that shit,_ he texts back.

            _Tell me about it._

            Still pulling a face, Mickey checked for their mail before starting his way up the stairs. You would have thought that with the influx of rich fucks they would have put in an elevator by now. Apparently not.

            _This better?_ Ian texts him, accompanying a picture of himself in the gym mirror.

            He’s got his shirt pulled up a little, a cocky smirk on his face.

            How the hell Ian gets away with this like that at work is beyond Mickey, but he’s not going to complain.

            _Much_ , he replies and then snaps a picture of the package in his hand. _Wot the fuck u bin ordering now?_

He’s almost at their floor when Ian’s reply comes through, making him bark out a startled laugh. _Guess you’ll have to wait to find out._

            He was such a fucking tease.

            “Get the _fuck_ out of my apartment, Jason!”

            “Not until you give me a decent fucking reason for this shit.”

            Mickey rounded the corner, eyebrows flying into his hairline at the display happening in the apartment opposite. The door was open and Elsa was standing there, clad only in her underwear and red-faced as she shouted at the guy in front of her.

            He was pretty hot, but had that whole preppy douche thing going on with not a hair out of place and his fucking polo buttoned right up to his throat. Mickey sort of wanted to punch him on principle.

            “What the hell are you looking at?” the guy snarled at him when he noticed Mickey standing there.

            Mickey’s eyebrows just climbed higher. “What did you just say to me?”

            Honestly, he was itching for a fight. Life nowadays had become domestic enough that the only time his knuckles got to taste blood was when he and Ian went out and some idiot tried to make a comment. It wasn’t like he minded, he’d advanced in leaps and bounds since the Halfway House and he wouldn’t trade a second of it for the world, but still… he wouldn’t mind getting to land a punch on this guy.

            The guy, Jason, puffs up his chest like a fucking idiot. He moves closer, obviously thinking that just because he towered over Mickey it was set, game and fucking match. People were so fucking stupid.

            “How about you just mind your own business?” he says, arms folded across his chest, filling the doorway.

            “Leave the fucking door open and it becomes my business,” Mickey points out. He peers around the guy to look at Elsa and asks, “He bothering you?”

            She smiles at him, pushing her own chest out like Mickey wants to see that shit and saying, “A little.”

            “Time to go then, asshat,” he says, sweeping an arm out down the hall in a very clear, _there you go, that way_ gesture.

            Jason scoffs, but then, Mickey was expecting him to.

            He rams his knee into the guy’s balls, catching his weight when he sags and patting him consolingly on the shoulder. “I really don’t like repeating myself,” he says. He slaps the guy none to gently on the cheek. “Now, you gonna make me violate my probation or what?”

            Jason, like the pussy he is, quickly shakes his head.

            “That’s what I thought, now fuck off.”

            The guy is gone so fast it’s almost comical.

            It’s almost a shame really, Mickey would have liked it if he’d at least argued back a little more. You could never trust these rich Northside pricks for a good fight though. The only thing they were good for was flashing their cash around and even that got old real fast.

            When Mickey looks back up, Elsa is leaning against her door jam, watching him.

            He wonders if she realises she’s still in just her underwear. _Probably_.

            “You really on probation?” she asks, twirling a piece of dark hair around her finger. Mickey had never understood why girls did that. It wasn’t cute. Especially hadn’t been cute when Mandy had done it, but then, she’d never really played coy. Mandy had been more the _flash the flaps, drop to her knees and get this show on the road_ sort of girl.

            It always makes him feel sick thinking about it.

            “Not for a long time,” he says. The truth is that even the barest mention of jail always gets the rich idiots moving like nothing else. It’s funny though, thinking about his stint in juvie. Maybe not so funny when you think about the reasons he’d landed himself in there.

            All he can really remember of the experience anyway was Ian’s voice down a phone line murmuring, “ _I miss you_.”

            It had been one hell of an incentive to get back out.

            She laughs again and Mickey swears, nobody has ever found him this amusing in his life. He’s pretty sure it’s all fake, or maybe it’s a girl thing, but whatever.

            “Thanks for being my hero anyway,” she says.

            He shrugs. “Didn’t really do much, did I?”

            “I don’t know,” she says. “I think you did plenty.” There she goes twirling that hair around her finger some more. Mickey could get dizzy just watching it. “You want to come in for a while?”

            _Is it just Mickey, or did she push her tits out when she asked that?_

            What about boobs was so attractive? They were just milk bags that sagged when gravity caught up to a woman. Sure, men had the nipple part the same, but there wasn’t any excess _stuff_ to just gross the whole situation out.

            Mickey didn’t get it.

            “No thanks,” he says, sliding his key into the door to his apartment, hefting Ian’s package up a little higher. He really can’t wait to find out what’s inside. “See you around,” he throws back over his shoulder.

            He shuts the door before she can reply.

 

*****

 

By the time Ian gets home, Mickey’s practically vibrating with curiosity.

            He’s sitting and having an honest to God staring contest with this package Ian has ordered.

            “Hey, Mick,” Ian calls as he walks in, dropping his keys in that little bowl like he always does.

            Mickey jumps at the sound though, looks up.

            “I’m just going to take a shower,” he says, flashing one of those smiles that could make an old lady fucking melt. Somewhere, one probably is, like she senses it.

            “No you’re fucking not,” Mickey almost shouts, grabbing for him when he gets close to pass by.

            Ian laughs loudly at the sudden movement. “Mick, you look like a lunatic,” he says, tugging his arm gently out of Mickey’s grasp.

            “What’s in the box, Gallagher?”

            The fucker’s still laughing. “Now you really do.”

            Mickey follows him into the bathroom, too wound up to be aroused by the sight of Ian stripping. He sits on the back of the toilet, feet on the lid and just glares daggers at Ian as he clambers into the shower.

            “Are you fucking serious?” he asks, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he watches Ian squeeze shampoo into his hair.

            Ian snorts. “Are you? You’re really going to watch me shower right now?”

            “You’re a fucking dick,” Mickey tells him before he storms out of the bathroom.

            He doesn’t think his cock has ever been this hard in his life and he never did deal well with waiting.

 

*****

 

Mickey isn’t anywhere to be seen when Ian gets out of the shower.

            He pads into the living room and picks the package he’d ordered up off the coffee table. If he knew something so simple would wind Mickey up this much, he’d have done it years ago.

            “Mick?” he calls out.

            And that’s when he hears the moan from the bedroom.

            He pushes the door open slowly and his cock goes from soft to full chub so fast he almost falls over at the sudden loss of blood to his brain. He fumbles with the package, drops it, but he doesn’t think he can be blamed given what he’s now staring at.

            Mickey had apparently decided to make use of the time Ian was in the shower.

            He’s lying flat on his back, legs splayed wide and two fingers pushed inside of himself. Ian can see the glint of lube in the light, Mickey’s got it everywhere in his haste to fill himself. It’s on his wrist, his chest, the insides of his thighs and all over the back of his hand. He’s practically dripping with it.

            _That’ll come in handy,_ Ian thinks.

            He licks his lips as he steps closer, taking in the sight of Mickey’s red mouth. Mickey bites down on his bottom lip some more as Ian watches, arching upwards into the fist he has wrapped around his cock.

            There’s something about the sight of those tattooed fingers doing _anything_ that gets to Ian, but this just about takes the cake.

            _Jesus_.

            “Do desperate for it, aren’t you, Mick?” Ian asks and he barely even recognises his own voice. When the hell did he start sounding like that when he spoke?

            Mickey makes a whining noise deep in his throat and when their eyes meet, the black has practically swallowed up all the blue in Mickey’s gaze.

            Ian picks the package back up, starts ripping into it as he moves closer. He’s never seen anything more beautiful than what he’s looking at right now, which is why he means it when he says, “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

            Mickey’s eyes roll back in his head as Ian pushes a finger in alongside his own.

            He doesn’t bother with lube, Mickey’s slicked with enough of it. And the thing that’s always so amazing about sleeping with Mickey is that he loves everything he gets. He always pushes back into the burn, riding Ian harder and harder as he chases that rough edge that he seems to crave to get off.

            Ian soon adds another, tucking the package behind him out of view so Mickey has to wait just that little bit longer. He bends to kiss him, swallowing Mickey’s moans for his own and hissing in pleasure as Mickey abandons tugging on his cock to grip Ian’s through his towel.

            “I can’t wait to fuck you,” Ian says. “Can’t wait to stuff you full of my cock like you always want. Can’t wait to make you take it, Mick. You always look so fucking beautiful taking it.”

            Mickey just moans, pressing upwards for another kiss and taking his fingers out of his own ass as Ian adds more.

            “But do you want to know what I have planned for you first, Mick?” Ian asks. “Do you want to know what I got you?”

            He reaches behind him, fumbling with slick fingers slightly as he picks up what he’s bought. Honestly, he’s surprised Mickey hadn’t guessed. Mickey’s usually so good at knowing Ian’s mind.

            He pulls his fingers out, drawing another one of those beautiful whines from Mickey’s throat. He doesn’t leave him empty for long though, pressing his surprised against Mickey’s rim and slowly easing it inside.

            “Do you know what that is, baby?” he asks.

            “ _Fuck,”_ Mickey breathes out, hand fumbling down towards his entrance again. Ian watches, mouth slack and completely amazed at the sight of Mickey tracing his own rim. He moans when he finds the small piece of string protruding from inside of him.

            “More,” he says, practically begging.

            He looks so fucking beautiful.

            “More?” Ian asks, slicking up the second Ben-Wa bead with his fingers and starting to ease it inside.

            Mickey nods frantically, head falling back when Ian gives him what he wants.

            “Do you think I don’t see your porn history, Mickey?” he asks. “Do you think I don’t know what you want? Why couldn’t you just ask, Mick, you should have just asked for what you want.”

            Mickey moans, looks desperate as Ian pushes another bead inside of him.

            “I got you a big size, Mick,” he says, not even aware of the words coming out of his own mouth until they’re spoken. “I know what you can handle, I know you.” He grins down at Mickey. “How many do you think you can take?”

            Mickey reaches down between his own legs again, feels the size of them. His breath hitches a little as Ian toys around with pressing in a fourth. “One more,” he says eventually. “Five… I think… _five_.”

            Ian smiles, leans down to kiss him because how could he not?

            He lies down between Mickey’s spread legs then, touches his rim and presses down just enough that Mickey can really feel the presence of his finger. He tugs on the string then, just to hear Mickey keen.

            He starts to ease it out, lets the ball linger there at the fattest point of its circumference. He watches Mickey’s hole flutter around the object held there, like it’s not sure whether it should force it out or pull it back in.

            He presses in closer, trails his tongue just barely along that wrinkle of skin as he pushes the ball back where it belongs.

            Mickey chokes on air, hand scrabbling to grip onto Ian’s damp hair like he so loves to do. It’s one of the reasons Ian’s been growing it, to give Mickey more to grab.

            He slips another ball in almost immediately afterwards, suckles on the edge of Mickey’s hole just to hear him gasp out a litany of curses.

            _Five_ , Mickey had said.

            “How does it feel?” he asks, tugging on the string gently.

            “Full,” Mickey chokes out.

            He can only imagine. He can only imagine what they must feel like, shifting around inside of him. He probably feels ready to burst at the seams, the burn slowly creeping up on him. Ian looks up and Mickey’s gone wild with it, eyes completely blown with lust and expression twisted into something that’s almost painful.

            Except he knows Mickey. He knows he’s riding that edge between feeling good and absolute blinding pleasure.

            He’s just waiting for Ian to shove him over.

            “I think you can take more,” he says.

            He grinds his cock down against the sheets, the towel having fallen away he doesn’t know when.

            He eases the fifth bead into Mickey slowly, so so slowly. And Mickey comes.

            It’s like he’s lost all use of his limbs. His spine snaps tight and his mouth falls open in a soundless scream. And then he just shudders, his whole body vibrating with the pleasure coursing through him. His cock jumps against his belly, neglected and swollen.

            His come shoots so far he gets some on his chin.

            And it’s that, it’s that sight right there that does Ian in.

            He pulls the beads out, fast and probably too fast, but he can’t help himself. He only just touches the head of his cock to the puffy edge of Mickey’s hole, only just slips the tip inside and then he’s coming.

            He’s coming so hard that it seems to be torn out of a place inside him Ian didn’t even know existed. His vision blurs at the edges as he tips forwards. The Ben-Wa clatter off the edge of the bed to the floor, but Ian doesn’t care in the slightest.

            He gathers Mickey up against his chest, smiles at how Mickey immediately starts mouthing mindlessly at the base of his throat. He reaches down, pushes his fingers through lube and come, back into Mickey’s ass. He presses them in and Mickey shakes against him again, breathes out a little noise of relief.

            “I’ve got you,” Ian whispers to him, petting his hair with his free hand.

            He knows how Mickey gets sometimes. He knows how Mickey feels so empty sometimes, after Ian’s stuffed him so full he feels like he’s coming apart. He knows to keep his fingers there, just resting inside of Mickey, just letting him feel that Ian’s there, still inside of him.

            Ian will always be inside of him. He’s buried himself right into Mickey’s soul, latched on with everything he has and he won’t be shaken lose for anything. He won’t let it happen. He knows that Mickey knows that, but he also knows that sometimes it comes right back down to the physical.

            “Holy fucking shit,” Mickey mutters against his skin just before he drifts back off to sleep. His tongue slides over the old scar at the base of Ian’s throat and he nuzzles in closer, like a child seeking comfort.

            “Yeah,” Ian agrees, a small laugh building in his chest. “I love you,” he has to say. “I love you so much.”

            Mickey kisses the scar he made when they were just kids still, when they didn’t know where or how far all of this was going to lead. “Me too,” he says to Ian in the quiet of their room. “I love you.”


	3. Chapter 3

This time it’s Ian who has to force himself up and out of bed when there’s a knock on their door.

            His fingers have slipped out of Mickey at some point while they slept and he kisses the back of Mickey’s neck lightly where he’s positioned himself as the little spoon.

            He carefully eases himself off the bed, stepping over the discarded Ben-Wa beads and digs out a fresh pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. He doesn’t know how people – Mickey included – can answer the door only half dressed. It just doesn’t sit right with him. You never know who could be on the other side.

            When the opens the door, there’s a pretty girl stood on the other side. She’s the sort of person Lip would go nuts for, long dark hair and eyes such a bright shade of green he doesn’t know how they’re real.

            She looks a little confused to see him standing there though, two beers clutched in a hand down at her side.

            “Yeah?” he asks. “Can I help you?”

            She shakes herself out of her confusion pretty quickly, flashing him a smile with so many perfect white teeth its almost blinding. _Yep, he can really see the men tripping over themselves for this one_.

            “Is Mickey there?” she asks, the colour rising just a little to her cheeks.

            _Oh,_ Ian thinks.

            He knows who this is now.

            “So you’re Elsa,” he says and it isn’t a question. He already knows the answer. Can tell from the way she’s smiling bashfully.

            If she’d been a man, he’d have smashed up her face for thinking the thoughts she’s probably been thinking about his boyfriend. And maybe he’d still be concerned even if she is a woman. That would be, if he hadn’t seen the look on Mickey’s face that time he accidentally stumbled upon lesbian porn – how, Ian will never know. The guy’s fear of vaginas was almost legendary; and hilarious.

            She beams. “He’s talked about me then?” she asks.

            Ian has to admire her confidence, he really does. And her taste. He can’t fault her for a minute there.

            “Oh yeah,” he says.

            “He tell you about today?” she asks. “He was my knight in shining armour.”

            Ian has to laugh, because just that image is hilarious. It’s not too difficult to picture Mickey helping out a woman when she needs it. He’s got the habit of picturing Mandy (and now Ellie) in the place of every chick he meets and so God forbid anyone try and do wrong by them in front of him. Still, Mickey as a knight in shining armour is just weird to think about.

            As kids, he’d never been a knight for Ian when he was getting beaten up. He’d just been the one to wait for Ian to wise up in his own time. Then he’d taught him how to throw a proper punch.

            There’d been nothing knightly about that though.

            “No,” he says and her face falls a little. “What did he save you from?”

            Elsa pulls a face. “My dickhead ex,” she says. “It’s why I’m done dating prissy little rich boys. I’m moving on to real men.”

            And there definitely wasn’t any more of a real man than one who could take six Ben-Wa beads up his ass without fainting.

            Ian grins. “I understand. Good choice.”

            She nods, tries to peer over his shoulder like Mickey is going to magically appear at the sound of her voice. “So is Mickey there?”

            “Yep,” he says, nodding.

            This whole situation is the funniest thing he’s lived through in a long time. He’s of half a mind to just step back and let her in, see how Mickey will react. See if he’ll explain it on his own or if he’d just leave Ian to do it.

            But then he thinks of Mick, still pliant and sleepy in their bed, waiting for Ian to crawl back in with him and maybe fuck him back awake at sound point in the early hours of the morning.

            Getting to experience that is so much more important to Ian than any scenario this girl could create.

            “So can you tell him I’m here then?” she asks. She’s starting to get annoyed, he can tell, that sweet little smile slipping slightly.

            He bets she’s a real demon when she’s angry.

            “No, sorry,” he says.

            And BAM! Just like that the real Elsa is in the room. She sneers at him, arms folding across her chest. The smiles are all gone, face twisting up into something almost ugly for such a beautiful girl.

            “He’s not your fucking property,” she snarls at him. “What gives you the right to decide?”

            She looks like she’s maybe weighing up her option of forcing past him into the apartment. Like that would make a good impression on any man.

            “Ian, where the fuck are you?” Mickey shouts through from the bedroom. “Get your freckled ass back in here!”

            Ian laughs, partly at Mickey’s words and partly at the stunned expression on Elsa’s face. He can see she’s maybe working it out now. Decides to help her along a little.

            “He may not be my property,” he says. “But he is my boyfriend.”

            With that, he shuts the door in her face.

            “Who was at the door?” Mickey mumbles when Ian crawls back into the bed behind him.

            He’s hardly even awake, eyes blinking blurrily. Ian smiles at him and tangles their legs together. He kisses Mickey’s knuckles and settles back down. “Nobody important.”

**Author's Note:**

> How about.... got any slim jims in this shithole?
> 
> [themintsauce](http://themintsauce.tumblr.com)  
> @BethCottrell


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